


tie your heart at night to mine

by After_the_Lights



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Comfort Sex, F/M, Insomnia, Light Angst, Nightmares, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 12:50:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17581184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/After_the_Lights/pseuds/After_the_Lights
Summary: The best way to remind yourself that your body is now yours and yours alone is to willingly share it with someone you love.





	tie your heart at night to mine

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Любимая, в ночи наши с тобой сердца свяжи](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20701907) by [fandom_Kingdom_Hearts_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_Kingdom_Hearts_2019/pseuds/fandom_Kingdom_Hearts_2019)



 

* * *

_Tie your heart at night to mine, love,_

_and both will defeat the darkness_

_like twin drums beating in the forest_

_against the heavy wall of wet leaves._

**SONNET 79 – Pablo Neruda**

* * *

 

Terra snaps awake with a hammering heart and the bitter tang of fear glazing his tongue.

There’s a scream lodged somewhere in the back of his throat and he takes several breaths, great and greedy gulps, to ensure it doesn’t surface. He’s shaking, his eyes sting, and he can’t quite make out if it’s sweat or something else trickling down his face.

A hand rises up from the darkness of the room, bathed in the pale glow of moonlight and the flickering of the always lit bedside lamp, and presses against his chest. It is cool to the touch and still dainty despite its numerous callouses. He doesn’t even need to look at Aqua and spot the bruise-blue smudges under her eyes to know that she hasn’t slept; her voice is too alert, her touch too light, and her words lack the hazy edges that sleep often brings.

Her fingers skate up his chest and along the side of his throat, sliding into his hair.

“I’m here,” she says, quietly pushing back a few loose strands from his sweat-slick brow. Her voice is soft and low. “It’s alright. I’m here. We’re home and we’re safe.”

One of her hands glides along his shoulder and reaches for his own, lacing their fingers tightly together. Her other cups the back of his head and with gentle insistence she draws him close to her as she rolls onto her back, guiding him until he rests against her sternum. She squeezes his hand and her lips lower to find his face, whispering truths into the skin of his forehead: ‘I love you; it’s safe here; don’t worry; you’re not him; he’s gone; I love you; you’re not him.’

Terra curls around her like a cage and listens to her pulse, to the ebbing and flowing of air from her lungs. The steady cadence is a welcome comfort. Some of the tension he holds in his shoulders flees at her familiar touch, her free hand stroking lazy circles on his back, but a lock of fear still sits coiled in his stomach.

He raises his empty hand to her temple and begins running it through the ocean of her hair. It’s blue, a blindingly brilliant shade of blue. Not like in his dream or when they had fallen to darkness, both of them with silvery hair, dark hearts, and eyes of liquid gold. Her hair is blue which means everything is fine. They’re home, they’re safe, and they’re together. That should be enough. He shouldn’t need any more reassurance. But he does.

He needs her. 

He nudges his face upwards and slowly and shakily opens his mouth over her collarbone.  Aqua tilts her head back and welcomes his lips with a sigh. Closing his eyes, Terra focuses on the low hum of her voice and the taste of her skin under his tongue, hoping and praying it will help drown out the last remnants of his nightmare. She squeezes his hand again, lightly dragging her thumb over his knuckles. Her touch is as calming as it is encouraging and when he presses his lips firmly to the white of her neck, almost hard enough to leave a mark, she whispers his name with warm affection.

He needs more.

He pushes himself up onto his elbows, careful not to let go of her hand, and runs his thumb along her clavicle and up the pale column of her throat until it comes to rest under her chin. Her eyes lock with his and he stares into them searchingly.

Aqua stares back. Her gaze is both curious and concerned, but lovingly so. It’s a look only she can give him, a look of understanding. No pity, just empathy. Sometimes he finds himself frightened by how much adoration and contentment it holds.

“I…”

He starts to speak but his voice catches in his chest. It’s low and groggy so soon after waking. Aqua says nothing, simply brings a hand to brush against his cheek and waits for him to continue. He tries again.

“I need to touch you,” he says, trying to steady his voice so that his intention is clear. “May I?”

He has to ask. He always does, no matter how many times she reminds him he doesn’t need to. Twelve years spent as a prisoner in his own body have made sure of that.

Aqua presses her lips to his in answer, her kiss tender and tempting. But he waits. He needs to hear her say it, needs to know that she wants this just as much as he does. He remains still as she caresses his face with her mouth, her fingertips dancing gently over the nape of his neck. She leaves small kisses on every inch of him she can reach, his cheeks, his earlobes, the corner of his mouth, as though he is a cherished and precious thing.

She pulls back with a smile that small and soft and sweet; it makes his pulse trip over its own rhythm. With a slight squeeze to their joined hands, she gladly tells him, “You may.”

Terra does not hesitate. He slides an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him, so close and so tight a knife would struggle to slip between them. His mouth quickly meets her and he delves inside, wanting to taste and touch and take what is needed.

Aqua responds eagerly, humming as his lips seal over hers. Her mouth is warm and yielding under his own and with each kiss, each press of his lips to hers, he tries to tell her, tries to let her know how much he needs her and how much he needs her with him. Always. He kisses like he’s giving her every kiss he wishes he could have given her in the past, during those long, dark years alone, and every kiss he wishes and wants to give her in the future. Their future.

Readily accepting them, she matches his passion, whimpering as his lips leave her face to nip at her neck while her fingernails race up the back of his head and scratch his scalp. He moans into her skin, deep and raspy, and the corners of his mouth kick upwards when he spots the hairs of her neck standing on end.

His free hand wanders over her chest, following her curves before trailing over her hips, and he savours the sounds she’s making, little gasps of air and the sharp hitching of her breath. It grows fainter when his fingers curl into the edge of the grey t-shirt she likes to wear as a nightgown, the one he only managed to wear once before she claimed it as her own, and she shivers as he slips his hand under.

He tugs at the shirt and pulls it up and over her head, revealing to the moonlight the litany of scars that dot her stomach. Most of them are small and white; others are larger and vicious looking. He finds the largest of them all, a red twisted star that sits just below her ribs, and brings his lips to it, mouthing the word sorry. Aqua inhales sharply, holds her breath, and Terra looks up.

She’s beautiful.

His heart swells at the sight of her and his mind is at a loss as to how he ever got to be so lucky.

Still, he continues, sweeping his fingers up the length of her torso and watching in awe as goose-bumps ripple all across her skin. He stops at the swell of her breasts and lightly and reverently begins to knead them, using only one hand; his other is still gripped firmly in hers.

A half-smile blossoms on her lips as his thumb teases her nipple, flicking and rolling, and one starts to bloom upon Terra’s own face as he feels it puckering under his touch. He draws the tip into his mouth and slowly circles it with his tongue, startling a shaky cry from her. Pleased, he closes his teeth around her and bites down with care, his smile broadening when she pushes herself closer.

Her breath is heavier now, small uneven bursts of air.

He moves his hand lower, dangerously close to her upper thighs, and watches contently as her lips part in anticipation, allowing a light moan of encouragement to escape. His mouth releases her nipple and he replies in kind with a needy and rasping groan that rumbles right through his body.

He needs this. He needs her.

He needs to feel her move under his hands, writhing and happy. Needs to hear her whisper his name against his skin like a prayer and then make that one magnificent sound she always makes when he enters her; a small and joyful gasp that likes to tangle in her throat and never fails to go straight to his groin. It is the one sound that lets him know, truly and certainly, that this is real because even with almost thirteen years to wonder and speculate, Terra knows he could never have come up with such a glorious and unique sound. Hearing that sound means they are both alive and themselves and together, safe in the here and now.

Journeying lower still, his hand finds her centre. He can feel her warmth here as he skirts his fingers along her inner thigh and briefly stops to pepper it with feather-light kisses. They move upwards again, slow but steady, coming to rest at her pelvis. Aqua arches her back when they slip beneath her underwear and drift over her curls to stroke her core, pressing herself enticingly close to his own burgeoning arousal. She’s already wet, he discovers, and he nibbles the underside of her breasts while slowly tracing along the length of her folds and around her slick entrance. 

His name falls from her lips in hushed whispers, over and over, like a spell incantation and Terra hums in appreciation, her need for him setting something aflame in his chest.

Teasing and tempting, he slides his fingers over the bud of her clit, once, twice, and her breathing falters. He watches her face closely, mindful of any and all signs of rejection, of any hesitancy, but all he can see is the rose-red flush of her cheeks and her teeth greeting her bottom lip as she stifles a cry. Her right arm flings outwards to grasp at the bed sheets, knotting them fiercely in her free hand as he strokes her, over and over.

She’s rapt with want and it calms him.

Aqua bites her lip coyly as he settles his weight comfortably between her slender legs. Her eyes are bright and so is her smile and, with one of her hands still entwined with his, she is the perfect picture of an open invitation.

But he pauses. The darkness of his dream still lingers.

Aqua notices of course. She always does.

She lets goes of his hand so she can push herself up and cradle his face, palms settling behind his head and her thumbs stroking his cheeks. His fingers miss her touch almost immediately. She stares at him for a long hard moment, her eyes searching for something and then she gifts him with an equally long kiss. It’s soft and urging and loving and sensual; everything he has been trying to put into his.

“Terra, please,” she says, slipping her hands between their bodies and under his waistband to find the head of his cock. His body quivers and his breath breaks. Aqua’s voice is shaky, the way it always is when she’s eager and yearning. “I want you.”

He moans. First at her words and the mixed wave of relief and lust that sweeps over him and then at her touch, her hand wrapping around him properly and beginning to work him to complete hardness with long and clever strokes.

His mind is full of her, his world narrowing down to only Aqua and the feel of her hands on his body. She bows to him, dotting kisses up and down his chest, and he hisses when she nips at his skin and swirls the wet warmth of her tongue over and around his nipples. The heat of her body flows over him and his desire rises up like a deep, dark wave, crashing into his mind and washing out the fear.

Once she’s happy with her handiwork, she releases him and settles back onto the bed, pulling him down to her with quiet assertion. He reclaims her hand again and she smiles. Shyly, he brings it to his mouth.

“Thank you,” he says in a near whisper, placing a kiss in her palm.

Something dark flashes briefly behind her eyes, something tinged with sadness. Yet her smile still remains.

“Come here,” she urges and guides him to rest back between her legs.

She deliberately angles her hips away from him, just enough for him to position his tip at her entrance, and then rolls them back towards him. He growls at the friction, a rich and quiet sound that rises in the back of his throat, and rolls his own hips upwards to meet her warmth. When he finally pushes into her she gasps joyfully and he can’t help the smile that breaks upon his face.

He means to start off gently and begins rocking into her with long, slow thrusts, but a faint whine works its way out of Aqua’s mouth. She asks him, in a clear and steady voice, to go faster.

“Please,” she says, eyes intense.

Terra complies.

Gritting his teeth, he slams his hips forward, trying to bury his length as deeply as he can, and Aqua curses in the simple and elegant way of hers that always manages to set his heart stuttering. He drives into her with precise rhythm, hard enough for him to savour her tight, slick heat and pluck a sharp cry of ecstasy from her throat. He clings to her when he hears it, one hand clutched tightly within hers and the other finding sanctuary in the small of her back. 

Aqua grasps him just as firmly, meeting him thrust for thrust with the rising of her hips. She’s like a dancer, twisting and curling below him but never once losing time. His mouth wanders home to find her lips and she sighs happily, brushing their noses together.

He slips his hand down from the tip of her spine to the curve of her backside and draws her upwards, changing his angle in order to reach the most sensitive parts of her. One of her legs hooks gracefully around his waist and drags him closer still, so close that Terra swears he can hear the delicate thrumming of her heart. When their lips part, she leans forwards and burrows her face into the crook of his neck. Her forehead brushes against his shoulder and he can no longer see her eyes.

He wants to see them. Needs to see them.

“Aqua,” he pants, his breath frayed. “Aqua, please. Look at me.”

She does as he asks and drags her head away from his neck, her blue gaze dark like the deep with desire. Her breath is as equally worn as his and she breathes heavily while her eyes scan his face. He’s not sure what she’s looking for, what sign she is trying to read, but he leans into her touch when she reaches up and tenderly strokes his jaw.

“I’m alright,” she says. “Everything is good and everything is okay.”

And with that, the last slivers of tension and fear leave Terra’s body.

Without warning, Aqua bucks her hips, causing him to groan as she takes his full length deep inside her. Encouraged, he propels into her, fast and hard, relishing the sight of his body disappearing into hers. Her hips rise again and he grinds against her, maintaining a tempo he knows can quickly drive her to the heights of pleasure.

She sweeps her hand blindly through his hair before moving along his neck and down to his shoulders, where her nails leave sharp red marks of bliss in their wake. Her lips press to his throat, again and again, and Terra reaches between her legs and strokes the swollen bud of her clit in time with his thrusts. She mewls, throwing back her head to cry out his name, and with every sound of affirmation she makes his trepidation fades and his confidence is restored.

She’s close.

He slides his fingers over her clit once more, urging her on and her fingers, still laced with his, tighten their grip as she pushes upwards to capture his lips.

She comes surprisingly quietly, with faltering staccato whimpers that fall against his mouth and a gradual tightening of wet heat around his cock. It transforms into a shudder of pleasure that cascades down her body and leaves her gasping for air, before dissolving into a handful of smaller rippling spasms. His own climax rises in his gut, twisting and curling.

“Aqua,” he rasps, shaking his head. “I need… I need to…”

She understands.

“It’s alright,” she murmurs, breath catching with every thrust. “You can let go. I’ve got you. You’re safe here.” She presses their linked hands to her chest, settling them above her pounding heart.

He bites back a moan and brushes his hand over her thigh so that he can lift it up. Aqua realises what he’s doing and spreads her legs wider, letting him slide just that little bit further into her. Having her all around him like this, her tightness, her heat, is enough to send him tumbling, but it is her voice that finally brings him to completion.

Her tongue finds the shell of his ear, her teeth his earlobe. She whispers, “I love you,” and he sees stars.

With one long moan, he buries his face into the hollow of her throat, gasping his release into her love-flushed skin as his cock twitches inside her and his thrusts stutter and slow. 

She rakes her hand up and down his back lightly while he remains deep within her, catching his breath and watching supernovas fade from behind his eyes. Once he’s certain he’s found his composure, he carefully withdraws from her and nuzzles her neck, inhaling the soft scent of her skin and the love they just made. He wants to close his eyes, to tuck his face close to hers and enjoy the sticky heat of her body right against his, but Aqua has other ideas.

“Terra,” she hums, drumming her fingers across his shoulder-blades. “Terra, you’re squishing me.”

There’s a hint of a smile in her voice but he pushes off her anyway, as quickly as he can. He doesn’t move far though; she still hasn’t let go of his hand.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to” His free hand reaches out to cup her face and his gaze softens, mirroring her own. She’s happy, relaxed, though still terribly pale and heavy-eyed. But she’s still beautiful. To him, she always will be.

He hooks his hand under her jaw and lifts it up so he can kiss her softly, earnest and sweet.

“And I love you, too,” he says, caressing her cheek.

Aqua’s eyes grow wide and glassy and for a horrible, heart-wrenching second he thinks she’s going to cry.

He doesn’t use them very often, those three magic words. They’re difficult for him to say, even though he’s sure of his feelings, certain that his heart belongs to her and only her. The first time he spoke them aloud he’d had sweaty palms, jittering breath, and a humming heart. Even now, months later, nothing has really changed.

“I love you,” he says again and it comes surprisingly easier this time. He fixes her gaze to hers, blue watching blue, and squeezes her hand. “I love you.”

“I know.” Her voice is thick but her eyes are bright again and she squeezes his hand back with a smile. “I know you do.” She holds his stare for a few more seconds and then drops it, casting her eyes down to the stickiness resting near the top of her legs. “I think,” she says, voice warming up with a faint chuckle. “I think I might need to go visit the bathroom.”

He follows the path of her eyes and blushes. “Right,” he nods. “That sounds like a good idea. Guess I’ll just…I’ll… uh… I’ll change the sheets.”

Aqua nods too. “Okay,” she says and, with some reluctance, loosens her grip and finally lets go of his hand.  She hauls herself upwards before swinging her legs round to the side of the bed and pressing her feet to the wooden floor. She begins to rise, to stand up properly, but Terra interrupts her.

“Wait!” he says, so suddenly and so unexpectedly loud that she sits down on the bed, knocked back by surprise. Reaching a long arm over to his nightstand, he rummages around the topmost drawer until he finds what he’s looking for; one of the small clothes he always likes to carry around with him, ideal for mopping up sweat, or sometimes blood, after a long training session.

He offers it to her with a shy grin. “Here. Don’t worry. It’s clean.”

She eyes it warily for a second, but then her lips turn upwards and she takes it gratefully, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thanks. I won’t take long. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says and she huffs quietly as she gives herself a quick wipe-down. 

“I’m sure you will.”

Her hands roam around the bed to find her night-shirt and once she’s located it she leaps up off the bed, elegant despite her lack of clothing and raked-through hair, and scurries towards their small en-suite. Terra tries not to let his eyes linger too long on her backside. He fails, rather miserably.

Stripping the bed is a mindless, routine task that brings an odd sense of comfort. His pillowcase is damp with sweat and the initial shock of his nightmare and as he peels it off he hears a faint gush of running water. She must have stepped into the shower.

The sheets come off next, heady with sweat and love, and he bundles them up in his arms and then scrunches them into a large, messy ball which he tosses with ease into the laundry basket.  He heads across the room to the largest chest of drawers and begins pulling out a fresh set of bed-sheets. They smell lovely, floral and calming.

At first, when they finally returned home at long last, he hadn’t noticed that Aqua had trouble sleeping. He was too caught up in his own mind and visions and nightmares to be of any real use to anyone else. Or even himself.

But as the weeks passed by the dark haze in his head grew fainter and fainter. The bags under Aqua’s eyes grew larger and larger. He knew he had to do something.

Armed with a large tome from the library, he hiked the mountain paths and combed through the wildflowers, inspecting them carefully before plucking and collecting what he needed. The finished pomanders were not much to look at, crafting is her expertise, not his, but they smelled perfect, of lavender and marjoram and chamomile.

Now they lie in each and every one of their bedroom drawers, though Terra’s not sure they’ve actually helped. All he can do is hope that the scent will help soothe her and encourage her to close her eyes and finally get the rest that she deserves.

He ambles back over to the bed and initiates a wrestling match with the top-sheet, struggling to fit it across the mattress. The fight lasts a minute, then two, but eventually he emerges the winner. He basks in quiet victory and hears the water shut off.

Aqua emerges not long after, blue hair now navy, carrying a small bowl and a damp washcloth. She wanders over to him, smiling as he fluffs up the pillows.

“How’d I do?” she asks, setting the bowl down on top of his nightstand.

He looks at her, at the speckles of water dripping onto his stolen t-shirt and the way the moonlight makes her skin look almost translucent, and decides to be honest.

“Not bad. I still missed you though.” 

Again, her eyes grow large and glassy, but her smile does not waver. Her right-hand reaches for his shoulder and she steers him to the bed, pushing him down into a sitting position before reaching over for the bowl and coming to join him.

The bowl is filled with water and she soaks the cloth in, wringing out the excess. With a hum, she brings it to his forehead and wipes at the sweat that must still be coating his brow. Terra sighs, flickers his eyes closed

“Do you…” she says.

Her voice is unnaturally quiet and he wonders if she’s about to ask him the big question, the one they drift and skirt about like it means nothing, or because it feels too important and at the same time never important enough. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ is one of those questions that has lost practically all meaning to them, along with, ‘Did you sleep well?’ and, ‘Do you want to be alone?’

But she doesn’t. He finds himself strangely relieved.

Instead, she says, “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep better now?” 

He nods and her smile grows larger. “But I think I’d rather watch you fall asleep first.”

Her hand falters.

“Please,” he whispers and tries to catch her gaze. “Just this once. For me.”

Aqua purses her lips and he watches her expression waver somewhere between apprehension and appreciation. She bows her head, inhales deeply and finally looks him in the eye with something that almost looks like a grin.

“Okay. I’ll try. But only because you asked so nicely.”

“Come here then,” he says and throws back the sheets.

They clamber into bed and piece themselves together. Terra wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close. Aqua searches for his hand and weaves them together and he sighs in agreement when she leads them over his bare chest and sets them down above his heart. She curls into him, nuzzling his skin.

“Tell me a story,” she murmurs

“A story?” he says, unsure if he’s heard her correctly.

“Yes. A story.”

It’s an odd request: he doesn’t quite know what to make of it.

“You know I’m not a great story-teller, right? There’s a reason Ven always used to go to you when he wanted someone to read him to sleep.”

She huffs in amusement, breath sparking pin-pricks across his skin. “Doesn’t matter. I just want to hear your voice.” She grips his hand tighter and her words start to tremble. “That was one of the worst things about…. that place. It made me forget, so much that I almost forgot what it sounded like. And I don’t … I don’t _ever_ want that to happen again.” 

His throat tightens at her honesty and the unthinkable torment she must have been through. His own suffering had been horrible, yes, but he’d still had his memories, bright things he grasped onto and held so firmly that even Xehanort hadn’t been able to touch them. Swallowing down his anger, his frustration at the unfairness of it all and his lingering guilt for having led her there in the first place, he lowers his head until his lips meet her damp hair.

“Alright,” he decides, kissing her crown. “I think I know just the one.”

It is an old tale, old but cherished. A story the Master used to tell them long ago, long before Ven arrived, when they were both bursting with youthful energy and refused to acknowledge the idea of bedtime. Terra clears his throat, squeezes her hand gently, and begins.

“Long ago, people lived in peace, bathed in the warmth of light. Everyone loved the light. Then people began to fight over it. They wanted to keep it for themselves. And darkness was born in their hearts.”

The words roll off his tongue without thinking. He knows them by heart, could probably recite the entire thing in his sleep, especially now that he’s witnessed it happen and lived to tell the tale. Aqua’s hand loosens around his and her breathing slows, becoming lighter and lighter. The new and relaxed rhythm comforts him and he continues narrating, with the light of the wide-looming moon pouring through the window and the woman he loves resting in his arms.

 “So even in the deepest darkness,” he says, glancing down just in time to watch her eyes flutter shut. He pauses for a moment but they do not open and he breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

The story ends with a kiss, his mouth whispering the final line into the delicate skin of her temple.

“…there will always be a light to guide you.”

He lies back with a smile, contentment sinking deep into his bones as he listens to the even pace of her breathing and slowly but surely, it lulls him to sleep.

When dawn finally arrives, golden and bright, their hands are still clasped together. Aqua informs him with a shy and sweet smile that it was the best night’s sleep she has had in a long while.

And Terra simply presses his lips to hers and says, “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had hoped to write something in time for release day, but neither time nor my brain felt like co-operating with me.
> 
> So instead I went searching through my collection of ‘unpublished works I swear will probably never see the light of day™’ and selected this. I originally wrote it a long while back whilst trying to figure out how to write a sex scene. Whether or not I was actually successful in that endeavour is for you to decide. I’ve given it a dust-down and a quick polish, added a brief reference to dark Aqua, but that’s pretty much it. 
> 
> If I remember correctly, it was initially inspired by an article I read about how the hormones released during sex can help people achieve deeper sleep and possibly help with insomnia, along with my own musings about Terra and the emotional minefield sex would be for him once he’s been saved. For both of them, actually, but especially a man who was robbed of bodily autonomy for over a decade. 
> 
> Title is from Neruda who is my default go-to whenever I need something romantic and sensual. Whilst not one of my favourites, the opening lines of the poem and the final sentence - ‘So that our dream might reply to the sky's questioning stars with one key, one door closed to shadow.’ – just screamed these two to me. 
> 
> You can read the entire poem, in both the original Spanish and English translation, at the following link. 
> 
> http://www.a-w-i-p.com/index.php/poetry/2010/05/01/tie-your-heart-at-night-to-mine-love


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